


woke from dreaming

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [14]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Body Worship, Cullenlingus, Dreams, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Cullen wakes up from a good dream, involving Kiriya. Maybe a little bit of appreciation is in order?</p>
            </blockquote>





	woke from dreaming

_“Cullen!”_

_He spun around, wildly, and somehow he knew he wasn’t in Skyhold -- the sky was stretched out above him, brilliant blue crisscrossed with the bright cries of wanderer birds -- the cold mountain winds speared through the layers of him, whistling around his heart -- he was alone on a precipice and every part of him knew he wasn’t supposed to be there -- he was supposed to be somewhere else --_

_“Cullen!”_

_Again that voice._ Her _voice. She was here and he needed to go to her and he looked around again, and -- was that Skyhold? A lonely pinpoint against the sky, barely recognizable? Walls and battlements and her voice calling out to him. Every inch of him cried out for her, needed to be with her, and he looked at his feet and searched for the path --_

_And the path at his feet was -- the bright sharp edge of a familiar blade. As familiar to him as the scar on his own face. He would have to run, run up that edge, as fast as he could -- some part of him was telling him that the path would disappear at any moment and he’d be lost to her, that he’d fall into the shadows of the Frostbacks --_

_There was nothing for it. Heaving breaths. The weight of his armor. He ran, and all the while she was calling him, and every step brought him closer to Skyhold, closer to her, and --_

_There! He could see her! She was running, too! He’d meet her on the edge, outside those walls, and --_

_He made the mistake of looking back._

_The path at his feet, the path that was the edge of his sword, was slowly softly dissolving into bright mist._

_Fear! Clenching around his heart! He gritted his teeth and swung his gaze back to her, and she was still there, still running, and her arms were thrown open and he was running desperately, just a few more steps -- now the weight of her was in his arms and she was holding him, holding on, holding them together. Such fierce determined strength in her embrace --_

_They were falling --_

And Cullen woke to the echoes of Kiriya’s dream-laughter, the edges of her smile.

Silence in his loft, except for the quiet crackling of the fire.

He looked up at the hole in his ceiling. Snow-laden skies, a familiar shade of gray. The slight shadow-edge of whirling movement -- one last messenger-bird, perhaps, and he wished it luck on its flight -- and then, beside him. Rustling movement.

He blinked the haze of the dream away and looked over, and caught his breath.

A thin blanket, and an expanse of bare skin -- of scarred skin.

Kiriya.

He remembered the previous day. The rustle of papers and the scratch of pens. An extra bottle of ink on the tray that had been delivered to them for dinner, and the unexpected surprise of a handful of shortbread cookies. He had offered her half of the cookies and she’d taken only just the one, and fed him the rest. He’d watched her mutter to herself over yet another marriage proposal, while he himself had been knee-deep in the latest requisitions.

And when they’d finally gotten to the bottom of those infernal piles he’d taken her hand and followed her up the ladder to his quarters. His hands helping her take her leathers off. His sword on the floor on his side of the bed, and her knives on the floor on hers. A whisper that could have been “I love you” or “Good night” or something else, before he fell into exhausted sleep.

Nary a nightmare that he could remember. Just that dream of falling -- falling with Kiriya.

And here she was, sleeping, and -- hesitant, he reached out to her. 

Her scars drew his eye. A briefly told story, with Cassandra pressed in on her other side and Leliana and Josephine seated opposite, the five of them hunched over dinner trays. Another late night at the War Table. “I tell people a pack of wolves walked all over me -- I was wounded, but not my friend. I put myself between her and the wolves. I didn’t want them to hurt her. It must have been the pack leader who clawed me up -- and then they left as quickly as they’d appeared.”

Parallel lines etched permanently into her skin. The scars started between her shoulders and ended in the small of her back, just to the right of her spine.

Beneath his fingertips Kiriya stirred, but did not wake.

Carefully, Cullen inched his way closer, until he was leaning over her. Until he could peer more closely at her back. Some scars were older, fainter; some seemed newer. Scars she’d acquired in her wandering years, and scars she’d acquired in the service of the Inquisition.

And somehow her strength and her skill and her heart had knit her back together. Somehow she’d gotten here -- _here_ , after everything she’d already been through.

“Kiriya,” he whispered, and he could no more stop himself from pressing his forehead to the back of her neck than he could stop breathing. Stop the beat of his heart that now thrummed to be so close to her.

“Mmm?” A soft question. A rustling in the blankets. “Cullen?”

“It’s all right, I’m better than all right,” he murmured. “Just -- stay where you are. Let me.”

And he thrilled to the near-silent _“Oh”_ that left her when he sealed his mouth to a faint star-shaped mark in her skin and began to suck. A gentle scrape of his teeth against that spot, a feather-light kiss, and then he began to move down the bumps of her backbone.

Sweet salt and the smell of his sheets on her skin -- again and again he kissed her, until her back was a garden of flowering love-bruises, the shape of his mouth pressed into her. She was shivering and pliant beneath him, even as he rolled her fully onto her stomach, and continued to map the curves of her. The muscles of her shoulders and her upper arms, and the shapes of her ribs, the shallow indents on either side of the small of her back. The rounded swell of each buttock, and the skin of her inner thighs, the secret creases of the backs of her knees. Shapely ankles and the arch of each foot.

He had to fight the urge to rut against the end of the bed -- he was aching, now, and all it had taken was the taste of her skin.

When he looked back up the bed Kiriya had levered herself up onto one arm, was trying to look at him over one shoulder. Fierce heat in her eyes -- he quickly came back up to kiss at the corners of her eyes, to curve one hand around her exposed throat. The wild fluttering pulse of her. “As you were,” he whispered into her hair, watching her shiver at the rasp in his voice. 

“I -- Cullen -- ”

“Please, Kiriya,” he said, and as she reluctantly settled back onto her stomach he pulled the blankets away completely. Goosebumps pebbled up on her skin -- until he crouched over her, until he traced the parallel scars -- 

He licked a path between those raised lines -- down, down, the full length of them -- and was rewarded with a breathless cry -- and Kiriya turning over, reaching desperately for him, capturing his mouth in a wild scorching kiss. 

He thrust his tongue into her, again and again, and rolled them over, his hand wrapped around the back of her head.

“Ah, Cullen,” she moaned as his cock brushed against the tangle of curls at her core.

“Patience,” he said, and he meant it for both of them: he wasn’t done with her yet. 

He ran his tongue down her throat, over the hollow between her collar bones, licking up the salt of her -- and he went, humming approval, when she guided his mouth down to her breast. 

He would have been content to suckle at her, to bite lightly at each nipple in turn, if it hadn’t been for the increasingly urgent snap in her hips as she rolled insistently up against him. Her spread legs and the slick that he could already see on her inner thighs, the intoxicating scent of her arousal.

Slowly, then, he dragged his tongue down her body, around the rim of her navel.

She was sobbing his name when he finally pressed his mouth to her. Now he lapped her up and stroked along her folds; now he drove his tongue into her; now he sucked carefully on the very bud of her -- again and again and again, drunk off her heat, off her need. 

“Cullen -- ” was all the warning he got before she went taut beneath him, poised on the very brink -- 

He circled the bud of her with his tongue, one more time.

Kiriya came, shaking uncontrollably.

He came back to her and put his arms around her when the shaking had passed, and pressed soft kisses everywhere he could reach.

“You?” Kiriya eventually asked, smiling gently at him.

“Have me,” he said, easily. “However you want.”

“You on top,” she said, and he covered her body with his, and she guided him into her and he groaned, deeply, once he was fully sheathed within. Trembling, trembling, as though he were on that edge again -- the edge from his dreams -- only this time there was no need for fear. Her arms around him, holding him tightly, sweet strength and sweet desire.

So he moved within her, thrusting hard and fast, goaded on by her encouraging cries, the two of them moving urgently together -- racing for the peak, racing to fall -- 

“So close,” he gritted out.

“Cullen, Cullen _yes_ \-- ”

And this, this was better than dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> The part in Cullen's dream where he falls while he's being held by someone actually comes from one of my own dreams. :)
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
